The Loon Under Laughter

By Dan Hough, with apologies to George Orwell

My favourite comedy open-mic, the Loon Under Laughter, is only two minutes from a train station, but it is on a side-street, and drunks and rowdies never seem to find their way there, even on a Friday night.

Its punters are a healthy mix of after-work team socials, bemused but adventurous tourists who want to dive in the deep end of a culture, and regular comedy nerds who take up the same chairs in the third row every show.

If you are asked why you favour a particular open-mic, it would seem natural to put the jokes first, but the thing that most appeals to me about the Loon Under Laughter is what people call its ‘vibe’.

To begin with, it is not a bringer. One may bring a friend if one wishes, but no act is turned away for arriving alone. In fact, arriving alone is rather the norm.

The stage and lighting is set up both to accentuate the authority of the comic and to relax the audience. The spotlight is hot, bright, and fixated exclusively on the stage, and the house lights are dim enough that punters feel no embarrassment at laughing out loud in a room full of strangers, since those strangers can no longer see each other.

The microphone is of the simple wired dynamic variety, sitting snugly in an easy-to-adjust stand for the tall and short alike, and though it is covered in decades’ worth of comics’ saliva, it operates just as reliably as it did when it was first unboxed.

At the Loon Under Laughter, there is no background noise from the jukebox of the bar out front, nor stragglers passing in front of the stage to get to the bathroom. The space is dedicated, solely, to the exchange of energy between comedian and audience. Music will only be played when waiting for the show to start, or at the whim of a musical act or one of those terrifying avant-garde clown comics, or for a few moments when the MC has just announced the name of the next act on the bill. And in those moments, it will be only the hook of a highly-recognisable song.

You can, of course, get a drink at the Loon Under Laughter. You have three opportunities: once before the show, once after the show, and once during a ten-minute break in the middle of the show. Wine, spirits and beer are of course all available, but cocktails are not to be made until the show has finished, or the bar would risk creating a long wait.

Do not be fooled by the break, though - the show is not very long. At most, it will take 90 minutes, because the MC runs a tight ship.

The MC will start the show by getting to know the crowd. Then, before bringing on the first act of each half, they’ll do no more than five minutes of tight, crowd-pleasing material. Their goal is making sure that the audience is excited to laugh, cheer, and applaud every act, knowing that this kind of energy will only improve the act’s performance.

The MC knows some of the regular punters by name, but will never address this off-stage relationship so as not to alienate the first-timers. The MC does not know every act very well, but they have made sure to double-check name pronunciation, and they will introduce each act as if they have been friends for years.

The bill is diverse, in every sense. All genders, sexualities, creeds and ethnicities are welcome, and a wide array are represented each night. The acts bring different tones, topics, and styles to the stage, but there is at most each night only one masturbation joke performed by a gentleman comic, and the other acts generally agree that it’s not a bad joke considering how hack the topic is. Not every act will have their best show every night, but every act will finish the night feeling supported by their peers.

To bookend each half, the MC brings up a reliable, dynamic act to lift the energy at the start, and leave the punters wanting more at the end. Every night, an older comic who was once a household name will turn up and only be recognised by one in ten of the audience members. At the end of the show, this comic will tap you on the shoulder, say something vaguely positive about your set, then give you some simple yet career-changing advice before finishing their drink and disappearing out the back door of the venue.

The Loon Under Laughter is my ideal of what an open-mic should be – at any rate, in cosmopolitan centres. (The qualities one expects of a rural open-mic are slightly different).

But now I must reveal a fact which the discerning and disillusioned reader will probably have guessed already. There is no such event as the Loon Under Laughter.

That is to say, there may well be an open-mic of that name, but I don’t know of it, nor do I know any room with just that combination of qualities.

I know events where the lighting is excellent but the show goes on too long, others where the acts are fantastic but the MC drains the energy from the room, and others where the MC runs a tight ship but it’s a bringer.

But, to be fair, I do know of a few open-mics that almost come up to the Loon Under Laughter. I have mentioned above eight qualities that the perfect event should have and I know one open-mic that has six of them. Even there, however, the audience is far too well-lit, and the bar keeps playing music in the background throughout the show, albeit quietly.

And if anyone knows of an open-mic that has great lighting, an excellent MC, a short runtime, a diverse lineup, enthusiastic punters and a non-intrusive bar, I should be glad to hear of it, even if its name were something as prosaic as Joke Central or the Laughter Lounge. So long as it’s not a bringer.

Published: 14 Jul 2025